The Weight of a Feather: Breaking Strain
by MotherCHOWGoddess
Summary: In the aftermath of the Battle City Tournament, Ryou Bakura is having a very bad day. It's about to get worse, thanks to Kaiba. Rated T for Shonen Ai & swearing, violence, threatened rape. 1st person POV. COMPLETE!
1. Chapter One

**The Weight of a Feather: Breaking Strain**

**Author:** Mother CHOW Goddess

**Rating:** R for swearing, violence, and attempted male/male rape (Shonen-Ai and/or Yaoi) SKxRB

**Category:** Yugioh, AU (post Battle City) Angst/Action

**Summary**: In the aftermath of the Battle City Tournament, life goes back to normal -- or as normal as possible. Unfortunately, Ryou Bakura is having a particularly bad day and when he crosses paths with Seto Kaiba it gets even worse, in ways that will change both lives... if they survive. First Person/Ryou's POV.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Yu-Gi-Oh! Or any of the characters thereof. They belong to Kazuki Takahashi/ Shueisha Inc., FUNImation Productions, 4Kids, etc. Also, apologies to Bill Gates for taking his name in vain. Personally, I believe that Kaiba **is **'that good', meh heh heh....

--------------

Chapter 1:

--------------

Today is not a good day.

As I trudge down the steps outside the main doors of Domino High School, I can think of only two good things about today. One, it's not raining; not yet, at least. And two, the school secretary Ms. Takahashi was kind enough to let me call Obata-sensei to let him know that I would not be able to attend what might end up being my last Kendo Club meeting after school today. Detention. Starts with 'D', as in the 'D-Minus' I received on last week's Grammar examination. I really have no excuse. I studied, yes, but couldn't concentrate because of a splitting headache. I even went to see the school nurse afterwards for a migraine shot, but it's still no excuse. Okay, three good things: because I was allowed to re-take the exam; just finished it, in fact. But if my retest score isn't high enough to maintain a 3.0 overall average I'll have to give up my extra-curricular activities until my grades improve. Normally this wouldn't be a problem, but let's face it -- things haven't been normal around here for quite a while!

If I have to give up Kendo and my Aikido classes, I don't know what I'll do. Sometimes I think they're the only things keeping me sane, lately, in a world that seems to be overloaded with the insane. The students at the dojo are normal,ordinary boys and girls with normal, ordinary, every day lives that **don't** involve life and death Duel Monsters tournaments, reincarnated Egyptian sorcerers, possessive homicidal spirits, or saving the world from ancient evils. **Normal.** I want normal, I crave normal right now rather desperately. Unfortunately, normal seems to include things like detention, and missing the bus by less than a minute. I watch the bus I'd normally take roar off down the street in a cloud of diesel fumes, and do a little silent fuming of my own.

Okay. I can do this. This loop of the Domino City Public Transit system only operates during peak hours, i.e., to accommodate arriving and departing students here and at the elementary and Middle schools. If I cut around behind the school and across the soccer field I should be able to catch one of the Green Line buses that drive through Domino Park; not the one I'm supposed to be on, of course, but it will get me to the transfer point before the last run of the day. Not like anyone will notice that I'm late, or even on the wrong bus. After all, this was supposed to be Kendo Club night; I never get home until after 6pm on Tuesdays and Thursdays, and like I said, no one will notice. Except maybe Mrs. Watanabe in the townhouse next door. Nosy old busy-body seems to thinks it's her duty to catch me doing something I shouldn't, like staying out until three in the morning or throwing wild parties in the absence of any normal parental guidance. Wonder what she would have thought of Uncle Jamie?

I snicker to myself, hoist my book bag over a shoulder and cut across the school lawn, heading for the far side of the grounds. Good old Uncle Jamie, the only member of my mother's family who ever had time for me on our rare visits to England; the rest were too busy looking down their aristocratic noses at the cheeky foreign blighter who'd had the dashed impertinence to court, wed and bed one of their own. Too bad snobbery is such a universal concept. Dad's clan was just as horrified by mother's presence, though they were more subtle about it. Aunt Chihiro drops in about once a month to make sure I haven't fallen off the face of the earth, and to take me shopping in Kyoto, but that's pretty much the extent of familial contact on that side. Sometimes when I'm in a weird mood, I wonder what might have happened if Uncle Jamie hadn't stepped on that landmine in Afghanistan. If he had come to Japan like Dad urged him to, after my mother and sister died; if he and Aunt Chihiro had ever met.... Maybe we'd have formed our own little outcast clan, the four of us against the snobs. Maybe Dad wouldn't have taken that job with the Langford Foundation and gone off again..... maybe......

Maybe I'd better stop thinking about 'maybes' and start thinking about 'here and now'. I really don't want to walk all the way home if I miss that last bus; the shortest route on foot goes through some rough areas any sensible person would avoid if possible. Of course, I could always head for the Kame Game Shop, and ask Honda (if he's there) for a lift on his motorcycle. Or Mouto-san might be kind enough to drive me after closing shop for the day. But that would mean hanging out with Yuugi-tachi. Don't get me wrong, they're a great bunch; couldn't ask for better friends. Really. It's just....

To be honest, I've been avoiding them ever since we all got back from the Battle City Tournament finals. Why? Because they keep **talking** about it, and yes I was there but I don't **remember**! And most of what I **do** remember..... well, I wish I didn't. And I'm tired of Anzu or Jonouchi or even Shizuka saying something, and then gasping in horror or embarrassment and apologizing; because they forgot that it wasn't **me**, it was the Other. The only one who understands how freaked out I get is Yuugi, but even Yuugi sometimes forgets, and says things. That's why I've kept busy with other activities since we got home: aikido, the Kendo club once school started up again, I might even join the Drama club if I can stay out of academic probation. Anything, so long as it doesn't involve Duel Monsters.

I threw out my deck as soon as we got home; burned it actually. Yuugi was horrified at first, but after he realized that it wasn't really **my **deck I was destroying, never truly had been -- it was the Other's, full of fiends and horrors -- he helped. I did save two cards, though -- Change of Heart, and Lady of Faith. Yami no Yuugi gave me one other -- Wisdom of Ma'at -- the night we sealed that damned Sennen Ring in a lead-lined photographer's film bag. Yami didn't think it was really necessary to do that but understood why I wanted to go the extra mile, so to speak.

Yuugi kept trying to apologize for hitting the Other with that God-Card strike during their duel on the Battle Ship, so I finally had to sit him and YamiYuugi down and put it very bluntly: I'd rather be blown off a blimp and **dead** then spend the rest of my life with that homicidal psychopath running around loose in my body, and should the situation ever arise again I'd consider it the ultimate act of friendship if Yami would kindly reduce me, my body and the Other to a grease spot on the pavement with extreme prejudice, shriving time not allowed. And if they really wanted to know, I considered myself in Yami's debt for somehow sorting what was left of me out of the Sennen Ring and back into my body, sans homicidal Tomb-Robbers or psychopathic megalomaniacs, so could we just call it even and shut up about it already!

After which I apologized to Yuugi for yelling, and YamiYuugi chuckled and actually made a joke about how I at least knew that denial wasn't just a river in Egypt unlike a certain other individual of our acquaintance; we built a bonfire in the patio chimnea, stuck the film bag with the Sennen Ring in the back of the kitchen freezer and went out for deep-fried scampi and ramen. And that was that, more or less. If I never hear the phrase "Let's Duel!" again it will be too soon, but of course that's not likely to happen either. It's more popular than ever, both here and in America, thanks to Kaiba Corp.'s release of carefully edited videos from the Battle City tournament to promote KaibaLand and KaibaLand USA.

_Hmph. Kaiba's been so busy he's hardly been in school; not that anyone misses him. I'd like to see someone give _**him**_ detention for bad grades or skipping class...._ I glance up from my musings to discover that I'm still about fifty yards away from the street. I shift my bag to the other shoulder and jog the rest of the way to the crossing. Traffic's pretty light this time of the afternoon; school's been out for ages and it's not rush hour yet, so I glance all four ways to make sure it's clear and start across the asphalt without waiting for the signal.

Won't happen of course; everyone knows that Kaiba Corp. practically owns the school system, not to mention most of Domino City. The only reason he even bothers to attend is because even Kaiba can't buy off the Japanese government. It's probably one of the conditions of him being an emancipated minor and legal guardian of his younger brother, that he at least go through the motions of fulfilling the educational requirements set out by the state. Actually, I'm surprised he didn't take a home schooling option – I know that Dad considered it for me before we realized that his position with the Foundation was going to involve more time away from home than originally anticipated. But Dad was worried about my 'social development' because we'd spent so many years abroad and moving around, so Aunt Chihiro agreed to be my legal guardian in absentia while he was gone. That's how I get away with living alone with a minimum of hassle from social services, though I have a dreadful suspicion that the Other may have put some kind of amnesia spell on my case-worker, Ms. Tanaka. I guess I should be thankful she's not in a coma; I think he actually **liked** her weird sense of humor! Go figure.

I pause briefly at the traffic island to re-check for on-coming vehicles -- still clear -- and step off the curb again. If there was a spell, I think it's dispersed now because at my most recent interview with Ms. Tanaka, I received a fairly sharp scolding for checking myself out of the hospital and running off to Battle City without notifying anyone or getting permission. On the other hand she was very approving of my becoming more involved with school-sponsored activities; I still need to get signed permission from Aunt Chihiro, of course. And if my grades aren't acceptable this quarter....

Okay, I am **not **going worry about that right now. I'm going to worry about that loud and getting louder wasp-whine behind --

I glance over my shoulder and freeze. Motorcycle. Big. Loud. Very close. And getting closer.

I know it's a cliché, but it really does feel like the world suddenly drops into cinematic slow-motion. _Does the rider even see me? If he does, which way will he swerve?_ Fifty-fifty chance either direction. If I choose wrong I'm 'street pizza', as Jou might put it, and the rider a casualty that I will carry the responsibility for. Won't be able to blame this on the Other, that's for sure....

_Move, you idiot!_

I dive for the far curb, which isn't really that far, accompanied by the sound of squealing tires, and tearing cloth. _Kamisama, please tell me he didn't try to brake at that speed! What ripped? My trousers? My jacket? Is he all right?_ I can still hear the roar of the engine in my ears as I scramble to my feet, noticing without really thinking about it the snagged and scuffed material still covering my knees, and then.... A thump and a sound like a thousand tree branches snapping all at once, followed by silence. Quickly I brush dust and dead leaves off myself and look around anxiously for any sign of the motorcycle wipe-out and /or survivors. The tire skid marks start in the street, swerve towards the side, and then jump the curb about fifty yards from where I am.... I wince at the sight of broken hedge bushes, but at least it gives me a clear trail to follow. I leave my book bag by the side of the street and head in that direction, hoping that there might be something I can do to help.

The motorcyclist is just getting clear of his machine as I push my way through what's left of the ornamental hedge. It looks like .... Oh dear God. White motorcycle. Tall, slender rider wearing a nearly ankle-length sleeveless trail duster coat over a dark turtleneck and leather slacks. Then he removes his helmet, thereby removing any doubt in my mind.

I just 'wiped out' Seto Kaiba.

I am so dead.

Kaiba spares his motorcycle a cursory glance, perhaps to assess damages, and then nails me with a glare that by all rights should cause spontaneous human combustion. "You!"

"Gomen... Are - are you all right, Kaiba-sama?" Okay, maybe I overdo it a bit with the -sama; chalk it up to massive free-floating guilt and a persistent inferiority complex. The Other did a pretty good job of convincing me that I was weak and worthless, but I am trying to get past that. That's part of why the aikido and kendo are so important to me right now; being able to defend myself (aikido) is a boost to my self-confidence and, well, Ms. Tanaka thought the kendo would be -- how did she put it?-- a healthy outlet for my adolescent frustration and aggression. But truly I'm not mocking him, although from his scowl Kaiba seems to think so.

Or maybe he's just trying to figure out if he knows me. We didn't have that many classes together in school last term; on the other hand, thanks to the Other, I was a Battle City semi-finalist and from what the -tachi have said, it was a pretty memorable duel between YamiYuugi and my Other what with the 'Destiny Board ' and the God Card and all.

"Bakura."

_Shimatta! _I've gotten so tired of hearing my surname spoken in that tone of voice over the past year and a half, I swear I'm going to have it legally changed it once I'm old enough. Kaiba takes a few steps circling the cycle, moving towards me; doesn't seem to be injured, thank God. I make a timid gesture of, I dunno, apology? sympathy?

"Ano....how bad is it? Can I call someone...'

I get another glare in reply, as Kaiba pauses and then leans over to grasp the handlebars of his fallen motorcycle. It takes a noticeable effort on his part to wrestle it into an upright position but when I start forward to help he throws me a very readable 'touch my bike and die!' look. So I stand back feeling useless while Kaiba inspects the damage, and wincing at the sight of the scratches and dents in the gleaming white metal. It's a beautiful machine, with iridescent sapphire blue detailing ... oh. _How stupid can I get? It's his Blue Eyes White Dragon. I am double dead... _He's got it propped up against one of the unbroken bushes, now; pulls a cell phone out of a coat pocket and punches a code into it. He doesn't wait for an answer or say anything, just flips it closed again and drops it back into the pocket. GPS locator signal, maybe?

"'How bad is it?'" Oh shit, I know that tone of voice: deceptively calm, and only seconds away from skin-flaying sarcasm of the kind that is normally directed at Jou or other members of Yuugi–tachi, and despite myself I step back. "It's bad enough when the authorities allow mutts like Jonouchi to run loose on the streets off-leash, but I didn't think they were so incompetent as to let a menace like you wander about without a keeper."

_Ouch._ All right, the Other was definitely a menace... "I beg your pardon?" I manage to reply mildly enough while shoving that spark of outrage back into a corner of my mind.

"A mannerly menace, how refreshing. Not granted."

Now that was just plain rude. I give Kaiba a very minimal bow; thanks to two sets of painfully polite and aristocratic relatives, I know exactly how to respond without resorting to crudity. "Gomen nasai, Kaiba-sama, for the confusion if you were under the impression that I was apologizing. I do believe that as a pedestrian, I had the right-of-way while crossing the street. I fail to see how your inability to control your vehicle under the circumstances can possibly be my responsibility."

As I straighten up I see his eyes narrow. A touch, I do believe; he appears to have caught the unspoken implication that while he may consider himself above the traffic laws, not every one agrees, and that he owes **me** an apology. "Since you appear to be unharmed and not requiring of medical assistance, Kaiba-sama," – and yes, this time I **am **being sarcastic – "I shall cease to waste your time and mine with meaningless displays of common courtesy and misplaced concern. Please...." I bow again, about your important business."

I start to walk away, outwardly calm and collected. Inside I'm... not so calm and collected. For as long as I've known him Kaiba has presented himself as an arrogant ass, and as much as I abhor violence I'm wishing someone would seriously knock the stuffing out of him. Not that people haven't tried, YamiYuugi in particular, but it never seems to stick. The only thing that ever shakes Kaiba out of his self-absorbed mindset is Mokuba, and even that has a limited duration....

**Clap....clap.... clap....**

I whirl about to see tall, dark and arrogant leaning against one of the still standing bushes, applauding lazily. "Very good, Bakura," he approves mockingly. "My compliments to your comportment tutor. I hope whoever it is has been appropriately compensated for their time and trouble."

_I will not be rude. I will not lose my temper. I will be polite. _

"If it's a referral you're looking for, then I must ask your forgiveness, Kaiba-kun**.** Unfortunately, you are entirely the wrong gender to be taking home to meet my grandparents." Actually, either pair of ancestral snobs would be ecstatic to welcome the handsome and wealthy CEO of Kaiba Corp. as a grandson-in-law; the only flaw in that scenario being the undeniable fact that I am **not,** despite Kaiba's insinuation, female. Granted, he's not the first to do so, but most tend to be much cruder about it – I'll have to give him points for subtlety.

Kaiba raises one eyebrow, and I notice that he now appears to be amused rather than annoyed. Sometimes I wonder what it would be like if Kaiba ever climbed off his high horse and held a real conversation with someone, instead of the usual put-downs and insults. It might actually be enjoyable. He shifts his stance slightly, arms folded across his chest, and blatantly looks me over; I feel my face getting warm.

"You're absolutely certain of that," he drawls, his gaze lingering briefly in the vicinity of my shoulders and my long hair.

"Completely," I retort, irritated by his continued attitude. _Well, what did I expect? This is Kaiba, after all.... Doesn't mean I have to stoop to his level, though._ "I wouldn't worry about it if I were you, Kaiba. Surely a person with your talent and resources would be able to locate a more than adequate substitute." _There! Hopefully I've shifted the discussion back to the subject of manners and his lack thereof. _

"But you're not me," he points out, that deceptively mild tone back in his voice. I do NOT like that glint in his eyes, and I especially don't like the fact that during our exchange he's somehow gotten his hands on his Dueling deck and is now shuffling it. Okay, time to nip this in the bud before it goes any further.

"I don't Duel anymore."

There goes his eyebrow again, and the shuffling stops. For a moment he looks surprised, and I think he's about to ask why, but then he 'hmphs'.

"Too bad. I do."

"I decline." It's my turn to take a determined stance, arms folded. "Did you hit your head after all, that you haven't noticed? I don't have a deck."

Now he does ask. "Why not?"

I **almost **stamp my foot (like a girl!) in exasperation. Kaiba was on the Battle Ship Dueling Platform, he saw the Other duel..._Kamisama, is the man deliberately dense? _I don't have time for this, I have a bus to catch!

"Because I burned it." That catches his attention and I can't help smirking a little, because he looks just as shocked as Yuugi was at first. "I'm only going to say this one more time: I. Don't. Play. Duel. Monsters. Anymore."

"Afraid of losing again?" he sneers, and I can't suppress a shiver. The Shadow Realm is definitely not a nice place, but that's not why. I can live with losing.

"Afraid of winning," I reply bluntly. "I don't like who I become when I Duel, Kaiba, and if you'd been paying attention to anything besides those damned God-Cards during Battle City you'd understand why." I trust YamiYuugi, but I'm not taking any chances on my Other returning; hence my recent avoidance of most things 'Duel Monsters' related, and the Sennen Ring's current residency inside a lead-lined pouch in the kitchen freezer. Kaiba looks...well, it's obvious that he **doesn't** understand. I sigh, and shake my head. "This is pointless."

"I agree." The cards have disappeared. How does he do that? For someone who claims to not believe in magic, Kaiba is awfully good at sleight-of-hand. "There are other ways to settle this."

_Argh!_ "To settle what?" I demand, my voice rising despite all my resolutions to stay calm.

"Compensation."

"For what?" I repeat. "You're the one who damn near ran me over, Kaiba. Unless you're talking about compensation to me for wear and tear and mental anguish, which would be so out of character for you that if you were, I'd be calling the paramedics and telling them to check you for brain damage."

"Damages...."

"I'm sorry!" I shout. "I'm sorry about the motorcycle, it's a beautiful machine, it didn't deserve to get crashed through a hedge, but if you try to tell me that you don't have collision insurance, I swear I shall laugh!" Oops, maybe he doesn't.... maybe after that mess with the Battle Ship, his carrier cancelled his coverage or denied his claim due to the 'Acts of God' clause. Although in this case it would be 'Acts of God-Cards'.... _What am I thinking? Of course he has insurance, he probably _**owns**_ the insurance company._

"No one talks to me like that!"

"Well, maybe someone should once in a while!" I snap back. "Who shoved a rod up your arse and made you the bloody pharaoh, anyway?" It's official, now. I've lost it. My temper. Which is something I try not to do, because the Other will take advantage of my anger and use it as an excuse to do something horrible.... Not that he ever needed an excuse. Except I don't have to worry about that anymore, because he's gone. I think. I hope. I pray. So I concentrate on my breathing, and in relaxing my hands and fingers out of their clenched positions, because I really don't want this day to end with me being hauled in on attempted homicide charges. I just want this day to end, preferably with me at home and Mr. Totally Annoying and Clueless somewhere else.

Looks like Kaiba could use some 'anger management' exercises as well._ Maybe I shouldn't have made that 'pharaoh' comment...._

"Who the hell do you think you are, Bakura?" he snarls_._

"I **know** who I am... Do you?"

He blinks. And then looks at me again. Really looks at me with narrowed eyes and a speculative expression on his face. I don't...._why did I say that? He's... wait, when did Kaiba get so close to me?_ I take a step back.

"Apparently not. Why don't you tell me?"

_Too close, too close!_ I edge backwards again. It's only been two months since YamiYuugi got rid of my Other, and I don't care what the psychologists say, that's **not** long enough to alter a learned behavior, especially one that carried such painful negative reinforcement. I'm **this **close to a panic attack -- _he's in my space!_

"I have a bus to catch, goodbye Kaiba, sorry about the motorcycle, see you tomorrow maybe..." I blurt out, very fast, and try to turn and run. Kaiba is faster.

"Don't even think about it."

"Let go!" Ironically, I **don't **think about it; it's reflex that sends my elbow into his stomach – _thank you, sensei! – _and knocks his hand away from my arm. Like I said, some habits are really hard to break. I spent the better part of two years avoiding close contact with other people; only the Other knows how many would-be bullies, unsuspecting friends, and even innocent bystanders whose only crime was to bump against me in the street ended up as game pieces, trapped in playing cards, or became Monster chow. _If Kaiba doesn't back off...._

"What, you'll send me to the so-called Shadow Realm?" Kaiba taunts, getting in my face and forcing me back another few steps. _K'so! Did I say that out loud?_ "That might work on those superstitious fools you're used to Dueling, Bakura, but I don't scare so easily."

"You still think it was all holograms and hallucinations? Wake up and smell the coffee, genius!" I try to catch my breath, with limited results. Between Kaiba's dangerous proximity and his effing mule-headed persistence in denying the bloody obvious -- well, I'm starting to hyperventilate. "F-ck me, Kaiba! You may be the Generation X answer to bleedin' Bill Gates, but you're not _that_ f-cking good at it!"

_Good Lord, I think I just rendered the great and powerful Seto Kaiba speechless! Go me...._ He actually falls back a pace or two, and the look on his face reminds me of the time I saw Dad whack a stubborn camel across the head with an iron skillet -- the camel was stunned, obviously, and so is the Clueless Master Hacker. Which makes this the perfect time to push past him and head across the park towards the Green Line station, hoping that this little diversion didn't cost me too much time and that I didn't miss my bus.

And symptomatic of how 'not good' today has been, I'm nearly halfway there before I remember my book bag. _Shimatta!_ (and a few other colorful expressions I'm not supposed to know, let alone use in public). So I stop and ponder a few seconds on which would be worse -- possibly encountering Kaiba again, or dealing with the certain wrath of my teachers tomorrow when I show up for class sans textbooks, homework and whatnot.

_No contest._ I sigh, and turn around. And find myself face to face... er... face to chest, rather, with a certain classmate whom I'd really prefer not to be running into right now.

_Eep!_

"Ah... something wrong, Kaiba?"

There's an unsettling gleam in his eye as he stalks towards me, and I retreat until my back encounters something solid and I can't go any farther. Kaiba **looms **over me like a spirit of Impending Doom, but his voice is surprisingly normal-sounding as he casually informs me,

"I wouldn't know about Bill Gates, but I'd suggest you wait until we've actually finished before deciding I'm 'not that f-cking good.'"

"N-nani?"

"You said ... and I quote.... ' F-ck me, Kaiba '."

**(tbc)**

&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&

Teaser for Chapter 2:

Kaiba looks like he's been dragged through a patch of gorse bushes -- well, duh! That **was** a stand of roses we crashed through when I tripped and we landed in our present compromising position. He's using one arm to keep himself upright while he gets his breath back; I've made him work for his spoils of war....

"What's wrong, Bakura? Run out of tricks?" Kaiba's breathing is still ragged, but starting to even out. "What happened to your usual threats about eternities of pain and darkness? I'm disappointed." Anything I say, or try to say, would be pointless; brushed aside as desperate defiance, or worse, groveling. The Other tried to teach me the futility of resistance, and yet time and again I managed to deflect his rage and destruction away from my friends and onto myself. _I must be a slow learner._

"S-s-s-screw you, Kaiba," I manage, and the f-cking bastard actually laughs....

&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&

A/N: Just a reminder -- this story is First Person, Ryou's POV. Which means he really has absolutely no idea why Kaiba's acting like this.

I have not yet seen the end of the BattleCity/Alcatraz arc, although I understand that the gang discovers Ryou in the kitchen (of the BattleShip?) basically stuffing his face (in the screen caps I've seen, Ryou is so adorable!!!), but no real explanation other than he woke up and was hungry. I don't know if there ever is a more detailed explanation, especially regarding the whereabouts of our favorite Tomb Robber.

I know that some people don't like the interpretation of Ryou Bakura as being part British. Sorry, I do. As a result, I figured Ryou would be reasonably familiar with various British authors & poets. An early draft had Ryou taking inspiration from a favorite Kipling poem (Hymn of Breaking Strain), but it slowed the action down too much. C'est la vive.... This is also why Ryou's theological references tend to be a mishmash of pagan (i.e. Egyptian/Greek), Christian (Catholic/Anglican), and traditional Japanese spiritualism. If anyone is offended, I do apologize for that.

I gave Ryou an 'Uncle Jamie' on his mother's side of the family, because he needs the memory of a solid male role-model for up-coming installments; and 'Aunt Chihiro' on his father's side (yes, that's a 'Spirited Away' reference) because, c'mon, folks! No halfway competent social services system is going to let a 16 yr-old boy live alone without at least a semblance of adult supervision! So where is the mysteriously absentee Dr./Professor Bakura anyway? That's yet another story, but I gave a hint very early in this one.

FYI: A 'chimnea' is a kind of patio fireplace that's popular right now in the MidWest U.S. They come in metal or ceramic mostly, and you burn special 'logs' or carefully dried and seasoned wood chips in it.

ALSO: I'd like to thank Vathara for her wonderful crossover stories, which got me hooked on YGO fan fiction; Amunra for her courage in dealing with a touchy subject in her story "Intruders", thereby inspiring me to turn what started as a tongue-in-cheek writing exercise into something more serious; and Amarin Rose, Laryna6, DarkShadowFlame, Lizeth, and all the other writers on my Favorite Authors/Alert List for their encouragement by example!

Last 2nd comment: Saw the movie yesterday, and nearly died when Gramps made the comment about Kaiba's insurance coverage! Oh well, you know what they say about great minds.....(Evil Grin!)

&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&

Please -- read & review!!!!


	2. Chapter Two

**The Weight of a Feather: Breaking Strain**

**Author:** Mother CHOW Goddess

**Rating:** PG-13; for swearing, violence, and attempted male/male rape (Shonen-Ai and Yaoi) SKxRB

**Category:** Yugioh, AU (post Battle City) Angst/Action

**Summary**: In the aftermath of the Battle City Tournament, life goes back to normal -- or as normal as possible. Unfortunately, Ryou Bakura is having a particularly bad day and when he crosses paths with Seto Kaiba it gets even worse, in ways that will change both lives... if they survive. First Person Ryou's POV.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Yu-Gi-Oh! Or any of the characters thereof. They belong to Kazuki Takahashi/ Shueisha Inc., FUNImation Productions, 4Kids, etc.

Author's Notes: **Calynder**, thank you! This is the first time I've tried writing such an extended First Person POV, and I'm glad that it seems to be working. And I'm glad you like my interpretation of Ryou at this point in the series; he's so quiet in the anime (what I've seen of it, anyway, and except when it's obviously the Spirit of the Ring in control!, and my access to the manga is limited ) but remember what they always say about the quiet ones - meh heh heh... **Clingy(),** I see Seto as having a very dry, subtle sense of humor, that not everyone would appreciate (or even recognize!). As for Ryou's attitude... well, I theorize that he's probably more than a little fed up with the whole 'possession' thing, and as I point out, he's been having a really bad day! And even us quiet polite Virgos have our breaking points! Aikido is one of several 'martial arts' that emphasize meditation and self-defense. BTW, if you like clever Kaiba dialog, check out Amarin Rose's story 'Separate Differences' – it's MalikxSeto, but the back and forth is delightful! **Redconvoy**, I'm glad you like it! I had so much fun writing the insults while keeping Ryou polite! Getting Ryou to say **those words **was the tricky part, because he had to be angry enough (or panicky enough!) to say them in the first place, and secondly, say them in such a way as to leave some doubt in his mind as to whether he actually **did** say them! Poor baby! Believe it or not that, that was the very last scene I wrote, and it was a bugger! Until I thought up the 'Bill Gates' comparison....I'm trying not to rely on the cartoon version, because I know that there are some major differences from the manga... That's why this is AU. My thought is that maybe Ryou went looking for the Ring after BC because he was sick and tired of the Spirit ruining his life, and he wanted Yami's help in getting rid him? **D-Star**, thanks! This particular story has three chapters, and an epilogue in Kaiba's POV, but I plan to write additional stories for a series! Am I evil? Meh heh heh!

My Beta Reader has suggested that I was too cautious in rating this story "R", and that I could probably get away with 'PG-13'.... And I'd get more readers/reviews....

**Previously:**

Kaiba **looms **over me like a spirit of Impending Doom, but his voice is surprisingly normal-sounding as he casually informs me,

"I wouldn't know about Bill Gates, but I'd suggest you wait until we've actually finished before deciding I'm 'not that f-cking good.'"

"N-nani?"

"You said ... and I quote.... ' F-ck me, Kaiba '."

**Chapter 2: **

My heart stops. I can't breathe. My vision narrows sharply to exclude the rest of the world, my sole focus being eyes the color of polished lapis lazuli half hidden by chestnut brown bangs, flared nostrils, and the pair of slightly parted and sensual lips immediately in front of me. Lips that are curling up at one corner into an SK trademark smirk that painfully jumpstarts my heart into pounding like a jackhammer, as if to make up for its momentary lapse in working properly.

_I. Didn't. Say. That._

___No_** f-cking **_way._

___Did I? Oh shit oh shit oh shit._

And suddenly along with the resumed functioning of my cardio-vascular system, I also regain most peripheral sensory capabilities --- I sound like that StarTrek character: whats'isname, the alien who's into logic and science instead of emotions -- and my brain kicks into hyperdrive.

S-since when do you listen to what I s-s-ay?" I stammer breathlessly, glaring up into those gleaming 'oh-so-amused-and-unbearably-smug-about-it' eyes barely an arm's length away from mine. Damn him! I haven't stuttered for months! Unfortunately he's got me cornered, figuratively speaking. My back is up against one of the park's magnificently huge oak trees, my potential escape routes blocked by those long belt-and-buckle-bedecked arms of his --- say, Kaiba, what's with the leather and metal fetish? Talk about kinky --- which I could probably duck under, especially if I take advantage of the fortuitous proximity of my knee to a certain portion of his anatomy. Then while Kaiba's curled up in agony, I run like a scared rabbit.

Two problems with that scenario. One, with my luck the bastard's wearing a cup; probably wouldn't even feel it, and all I'd end up with would be a badly bruised knee. And two: Kaiba's legs are way longer than mine; he'd catch me before I reached the street, and from the look in those eyes I really don't think I want to be there when he does. Except.... that's NOT an 'I'm pissed off and ready to annihilate' glare; I **know **what THAT looks like, I've seen it directed at my -- our -- classmates often enough. I don't recognize that expression at all; it looks --

Hungry?

Did I mention that MY arms are effectively straitjacketed by my school blazer, which has been pushed off my shoulders, and is now an uncomfortable lump between the small of my back and the tree? Right now I couldn't shove Kaiba away if my life depended on it, which means a kick to his family jewels might be my only option. Then free my arms and hope those aikido classes weren't a total waste of my time and Dad's money.

Uh-oh....

"Since I want to," Kaiba growls, answering my earlier, mostly rhetorical, question. His arms appear to fold in like umbrella ribs; I barely have time to 'eep', let alone implement any ingenious plan to avoid a fate worse than death. I do drop to my knees out of reflex, but before I can do anything like scuttle away between his legs or aim a punch, Kaiba's got a grip on my collar and is hauling me back into the danger zone. He leans in, lips a mere inch from my ear.

"You challenged me. I accept. "

Oh hell. I am totally screwed. No pun intended. Kaiba won't back down. I can't back down. That would be showing weakness, and you don't show weakness in front of a predator. And Kaiba is definitely a predator. Wait a minute. If Kaiba's treating this like a Duel, maybe there's a loophole....

"What happens if I forfeit?"

Okay, this is just not right. No teenager (and for all his posturing and attitude Kaiba's not **that** much older than I am) should have such a sinister chuckle. It's just plain wrong.

"You pay a penalty, of course."

_O_f course. Silly me. And I can just guess what that penalty might be. Kaiba wins, either way. Maybe I did say what Kaiba claims I did (and out of all the uncomplimentary epithets I've heard regarding my opponent, I've never heard the word 'liar' used); I certainly didn't mean it literally -- and I don't believe in Freudian slips! The real question is: what can I live with? Meekly submitting to what I believe is about to happen or fighting back every inch (ouch!) of the way? I don't think there are any rules in the Dual Monsters Tournament Handbook covering this sort of situation.

One last appeal to sanity. "Would you consider settling this Ro-Sham-Bo?"

"You're stalling."

Didn't think so. "And you're annoying!" I snap back, letting the anger I've been suppressing flare up again. Use your anger; don't let it use you. When Kaiba grabbed me by the collar it pulled my jacket back up more or less into its proper place, restoring some mobility to my arms. I bring them up sharply, breaking his grip from the inside and forcing him back a step. Lapis eyes widen slightly in surprise, then narrow again in calculation.

"Hn. Seems I've underestimated --"

"Whatever," I interrupt, throwing 'Ms Manners' to the wolves. Most people see my ectomorphic build with its lack of obvious muscles and notice that I'm not particularly athletic in P.E. class; they observe the way I try to avoid trouble, and make their assumptions: weakling, wimp, etc. If I were a boxer, I'd be a featherweight; in fact, that's my nickname at the dojo -- 'Feather'. I may not have the body mass, but by God, I've been learning how to use what I've got! Kaiba of all people should know not to judge a book by its cover; right now he's re-evaluating everything he thinks he knows about me. Good. I need to keep him off balance; it might give me a slight edge.

I stand as tall as I can, and match Kaiba glare for glare -- not eye to eye, there's too much of a height difference between us -- reflexively straightening my blazer. I will not be intimidated. Stiff upper lip, don't let 'em see you sweat, and all that crap. The part of me that still wants to work things out is wondering why Kaiba picked today to take extreme offense at a common insult, but that part is getting smaller by the moment. Right now, I don't effing care why Mr. High-and-Mighty-CEO is pissed off. All I care about it getting through this relatively intact.

"Two things before we start, Kaiba." He opens his mouth, probably to say something about how I have no say since I 'challenged' him, but I cut him off again. "One. This stays between us. No involving family, friends ... or ancient Egyptian spirits. Just you and me."

Staring into those cold blue eyes I see the exact moment he realizes what I'm offering. Not that he believes in 'all that mystical mumbo jumbo' as he so eloquently puts it; I swear, if you look up 'denial' in the dictionary, you'll find an icon of Seto Kaiba right next to the definition text. And he could probably care less if I go whining to Yuugi-tachi about the big bad Kaiba-monster when this is over; hell, it would give him something new to torment Jou with. No, what gets his attention is that I won't rat him out to the one person whose good opinion he values -- his little brother. Not for Kaiba's sake, certainly; but I happen to like Mokuba, and I'm not about to scar the kid for life by telling him that his beloved nii-sama is a pervert and a would-be-rapist!

"Agreed."

And I know that he'll keep up his end as well: the soul of discretion, with no gloating _to _classmates or associates about his 'conquest', although I'm not sure if he'll be able to refrain from subtle veiled jabs in public. Still, Kaiba has a reputation for keeping his word. I'll just have to deal with it later if he can't. I manage to keep the relief out of **my **expression, inhale deeply and slowly exhale. Calm. Center yourself, Feather. Ignore the fact that you're about to be totally demolished and depredated. Degraded. Whatever.

"Two. Just so you know..." Kaiba hears something in my tone that makes him wary, because his stance shifts slightly. Going to Defense Mode, eh, Game Master? Should I be flattered? Some day, somehow, I swear I will **make** you regret pushing this! So I let him have it. **Storm Force Ten**: with all the anger, disgust, and loathing that roils in my heart and soul channeling like lasers through my eyes and dripping acid in my voice, ".... I. Will. **NOT**. Make. This. Easy. For. You."

He recoils, and I take advantage by lunging forward --no, not a groin shot, tempting though it is -- during that brief moment, hitting one shoulder and knocking him further off balance, then backsweep the supporting leg out from under him. Kaiba goes down, but recovers quickly enough to grab one of my ankles as I leap away. As I fall I manage to kick free, lose a shoe and feel my heel connect with something -- Kaiba's face, I hope. No such luck, apparently, I see as I finish my roll and crouch turn to view my opponent. Oh, yes, I'm very familiar with **that** look -- shock, fury, frustration, and 'you're dead!'

"Warned you," I pant. "Won't go down...without...a fight...you sonofabitch...." I could still run, while he's getting to his feet. Stupid, Feather. You've got, what? Two months worth of aikido lessons and a few dirty tricks you've picked here and there, while the Dragon Master over there moves like Jet Li! Now what do I do?

Try to keep from getting pinned down again, and stall. The longer I can drag this out the better the chance that someone, anyone, will wander by and interrupt and I certainly don't imagine Kaiba fancies an audience. Is he packing, as Jou would so colorfully put it? Not a gun, at least. Not his style. Maybe a knife, but I don't think he'll pull it. Not for this. Kaiba isn't planning on **killing **me, after all, just ....

Focus, Feather. Might not happen.

Yeah, right.__

I toe off my other shoe, glad of the thick tabi I wore today in anticipation of Kendo club. The ground is littered with twigs and other plant bits; if I were totally barefoot I'd be in serious trouble. Still might be, as some of these ornamental bushes also have thorns. I should try to ditch my school jacket if possible; it's been a liability once already.

Too late.

I make the mistake of taking my eyes off my opponent for I swear three seconds (I'm thinking about those evergreen hedges just overthere) and refocus just in time to almost dodge a snap kick. Almost, because I think Kaiba was aiming for my head and he catches my shoulder with a glancing hit instead because I'm already moving. I tumble and grab -- feels like denim? -- and yank.Keh... someone should tell Kaiba that wearing long flowing coats during a brawl is a BAD idea... but not just yet! K aiba, meet prickly bush. Yes!

Shoulder hurts, probably going to have a lovely bruise there tomorrow, but not too bad. I'm not going to make Jonouchi's usual mistake and attack. Can't let Kaiba get too close; I know some blocks and an armlock or two but I have to be inside his reach to use them. Nope, not happening. I'm backing away from Kaiba, I think those hedges I noticed earlier are behind me; if he rushes me, maybe I can encourage another introduction....

My heel catches on something.

K'so! Who put a rose bush ---__

Which is when a hundred and fifty-some pounds of angry CEO connects with my stomach and the world vanishes in a flash of purple black agony.

Until about a year and a half ago, I owned an alarm clock that possessed a truly evil sounding buzzer that could put the smoke detector to shame. Shortly after the Other decided to take a more active role in making my life a living hell (as opposed to merely putting my friends into mysterious comas, and letting me think I was crazy, cursed or both), he also decided there was room for only one truly evil entity in the apartment, and my alarm clock took a one-way trip to the Shadow Realm (so did the smoke detector, but that's another story; suffice to say, that's why I'm now living in a townhouse). Well, apparently there's some kind of cosmic 'Law of Conservation' because now that the Other is gone, my alarm seems to be back -- louder and more obnoxious than ever...

___Wait a minute. Since when do I have a bonsai tree on my bedside table? _

That horrible buzzing is fading a bit; battery must be running down. Heaven knows the last time it was replaced; at least a year and a ---

___I'm lying on dirt and prickly twigs, and there's a green beetle staring me in the face. This is -- odd_.

"... Bakura."

___I'm sorry, Bakura's not here right now, he's wherever psychopathic Egyptian tomb robbers end up when they piss off powerful pharaohs, and he's not likely to be back any time soon. Like never, we hope...._

"Bakura!"

_...__. But if you'd care to leave a message for the f-cked-up former host vessel...._

F-cked--- oh F-CK! I make the green beetle disappear by closing my eyes and take a panicked mental inventory of said vessel's physical condition. I'm sprawled half-sitting half-lying on my back against some prickly evergreen hedge plant. It's got little purple berries. Low-growing juniper, maybe? Kaiba is sitting on top of me, straddling my legs actually so I can't kick him; it feels like he's got one knee holding down my left arm. Where's my other arm? What the hell is it doing underneath **me**? Not broken, but I think its going numb.

I open my eyes again. Kaiba looks like he's been dragged through a patch of gorse bushes -- well, duh! And that **was** a stand of roses we crashed through when I tripped and before we landed in our present compromising position. He's using one arm to keep himself upright while he gets his breath back; I've made him work for his spoils of war. The other hand is around my throat. Not choking me, though; is he... checking my pulse? Afraid he'd killed me? As if...Damn him!

All I can do is glare and breathe; short, harsh gasps of air that to my ears sound horrifyingly close to sobs. If I keep hyperventilating, maybe I'll pass out again. At least that way I won't feel it happening; maybe afterwards I can pretend it was just another nightmare from the Shadow Realm, courtesy of the Other. After all, I still wake up sweating in terror at least once a week, and spend the rest of the hours until dawn wide awake with every light in the house turned on. What's one more monster in the closet, after all?

"What's wrong, Bakura? Run out of tricks?" Kaiba's breathing is still ragged, but starting to even out. "What happened to your usual threats about eternities of pain and darkness? I'm disappointed." Anything I say, or try to say, would be pointless; brushed aside as desperate defiance, or worse, groveling. The Other tried to teach me the futility of resistance, and yet time and again I managed to deflect his rage and destruction away from my friends and onto myself. I must be a slow learner.

"S-s-s-screw you, Kaiba," I manage, and the f-cking bastard actually laughs. There's a manic gleam in his eyes that's more frightening than anything I ever saw in my Other or in Malik; as if Kaiba has received the demonic equivalent of a Grail Vision and is less than a heartbeat away from setting alight the fires of Armageddon.

"I think you've got that backwards," he taunts. "But then, what else should I expect from a pathetic third rate duelist like yourself? You tried to play the game and you lost. Now you pay the penalty."

"Your game, your rules...." Kaiba's never been what you'd call a good loser, and unfortunately I've seen him even less gracious in victory, "...your advantage," I add bitterly. "How could you **not **have won?"

___Oh, that was stupid! All but accusing Seto Kaiba of cheating.... _I brace myself for his reaction, either more verbal abuse or even a physical blow because there's no way in Hell he's going to let that pass. Instead, he lets go of my throat to reach that hand up through my hair, finger-combing the bangs back into some semblance of order. What the hell? I flinch as they catch in a snarl, and he stops, his expression darkening with...what? Anger? Frustration? Confusion? No, that can't be right. I must be mistaken.

"I haven't won," Kaiba grates out, almost impatiently, as if tutoring a particularly dense student he suspects of being willfully stupid. "Yet." The fingers that are still tangled in my hair pull free to trace down the side of my face and along the jaw line. "Not until I get what I want." He grips my chin and forces it up and back, so that the only way I can avoid his eyes is to close my own. **His **are smoldering like dry ice, cloudy lapis lazuli lit from behind by whatever passion is driving this violence.

"What you want," I retort in a strangled whisper, "is nothing I care to give. You'll have to take it."

"I intend to." Now I do close my eyes. I don't want to see him gloating at me; I don't want to see what I know is coming next. "Game over, Bakura. You lose."

I never thought having a classical education would be a disadvantage or that I would regret my father's liberal views regarding art vs. porn, and the hours spent in museums surrounded by decadent Etruscan bath mosaics --the kind that most adolescent boys wouldcheerfully trade their virginity to at least ogle, let alone imitate. Many of the acts depicted would be considered mild by modern standards or improbable unless you were a contortionist.... So of course, the nastiest images are projecting themselves against the insides of my eyelids in standard 'life-passing-before-my-eyes-in-less-time-than-it-than-it-takes-to-say-it' fashion, and I realize that I may still have a chance!

It's basic anatomy, really. I'm on my back, which would be bad if I was female. But the most common position for, er, male-male activities which would also give Kaiba the greatest amount of control, especially over a less than enthusiastic partner -- and don't even try to tell me that control isn't an issue, here! -- requires that I be, ah, face down. Which means that Kaiba is going to have to let go and move in order to turn me over. All I need is a slight shift in the weight on top of me, and a moment of misplaced confidence in my apparent docility....

What I get is Kaiba's mouth against mine with bruising force and the breath knocked out of my lungs from the shock. Not a kiss; a kiss is a tentative brush of lips with Miho at the White Day dance after school, or the taste of tears as Anzu cries and hugs my neck after YamiYuugi brings me back body and spirit from the Shadow Realm (nothing personal; Jou got the same treatment when **he** woke up). This is an assault, a foreshadowing of the invasion to come. The hand that was holding my chin is now behind my head, fingers once again clenched in my hair to keep me from turning away from the unwanted intrusion of Kaiba's tongue between my lips, demanding entry to the rest of my mouth.

___Let me in. Now._

___No._

The pressure eases, but I know better than to think he's relenting. Kaiba simply doesn't take 'no' for an answer; just ask Yuugi and his Ojii-san. Hell, ask any of the -tachi!_ Egotistical control freak ---_

___Ah! He bit me!_

My bottom lip, to be precise, and not very hard but it's enough to startle me into letting them part, which is what he intended. I don't have to open my eyes to see the satisfied smirk on his face as he presses the advantage, tongue probing past my teeth and deep into my mouth; touching, tasting... caressing....

_...__.Oh. Oh,_ **GOD......**

And at the same time electric heat sears up my nerves from my groin to my head, telling my brain that something incredible is going on just below the equator that really needs some attention. But my brain is a little overwhelmed at the moment; take a number please, and get in line, that's a good libido. So my treacherous body decides in the absence of instructions to take the initiative into its own hands, so to speak, and responds to a subtle shift in the pressure across my hips by trying to not only maintain but increase said pressure. Movement that does not go unnoticed by the sadist trying to give me an impromptu tonsillectomy, because I feel the laughter vibrating through his body as he releases my mouth with a light flick of tongue against my lower lip that sends another jolt of lightning down my spine.

_I_ did not want this; I did not ask for this. I always assumed that eventually I would become attracted to a girl my own age and that either friendship would develop into physical intimacy or vice versa, teenage hormones being what they are. The fact that it hadn't happened yet I've accredited to lack of opportunity, and the fear that anyone getting close to me would be hurt -- or worse -- by the Other. As a result, I am (to the best of my knowledge) still a virgin. Innocent? Hardly! Not with that malicious homicidal maniac living in my head, but I've never found any indication that he made use of my body in **that **way and considerable evidence that he'd actually thwarted sexual assaults on us, on more than one occasion. I almost wish he was here, right now; except not even Kaiba deserves a trip to the Shadow Realm or to be torn apart by Man-Eater Bug.

_I_ should be yelling 'Fire' at the top of my lungs; I should be trying to hit Kaiba over the head or knee him in the groin, fighting tooth and nail to get his body off of mine. Instead I lie shuddering, eyes still tightly closed. Kaiba's lips are hot against my neck, against the pulse point he was holding earlier and I know he can tell how hard my heart is pounding right now. I feel his hips grinding against mine and I bite my lip until I taste blood to keep from moaning. Not from pain; oh no, definitely not pain. The Other taught me all about pain. This is something entirely different; a searing heat that surges through my body, that leaves me aching, wanting more....

___Kamisama, please.... Not like this. Please...._.

"O-onegai.... Kaiba....don't..."

Neither one seems to be listening. He claims my mouth again, licking the blood from my lip as his free hand snakes inside my jacket and tugs the shirttails out of my uniform trousers. My collar is already undone and it takes only a few seconds for Kaiba to twitch the buttons loose and open my shirt. His fingers brush across my ribcage, tickling and teasing towards the tender, half-healed scars on my chest.

"Kai --- Itaiiiiiiiii!"

That is definitely pain, and it stabs through me with a dreadful familiarity. Every time the Other called upon the power of the Sennen Ring, my body paid for it in blood. It's been, what, almost two months since I stopped wearing the Ring and the puncture wounds caused by the Ring's flechettes are still incredibly sensitive to the touch. YamiYuugi believes that eventually they will heal, but I will probably carry the scars for the rest of my life.

There are tears in my eyes now; I try to blink them away and realize that Kaiba has pulled back, and is looking at me with a strange expression I can't quite identify on his face. He pulls the cotton shirt away from my skin and something odd flickers in his eyes. I know what he sees: five raw, weeping gashes and what looks like a burn mark in the form of an encircled pyramid. **That's** what Yuugi (and Yami) kept apologizing for; the energy from the God-Card strike seared through the Ring and literally branded me when they took down the Other on the Battle Ship.

Kaiba's eyes are narrow and hard, but his touch is surprisingly gentle as he traces the mark with a finger; I seem to recall one of the -tachi saying something about him having been abused when he was younger. By his and Mokuba's stepfather, I think it was. I'm too exhausted and heartsick to care right now. I just want this over, damn him.

"What -- who did this?" he demands roughly, and I realize I still have a spark of anger left._ How dare he -- ?_

"What the hell do you care?" I glare at him through my tears, and he recoils as if my words were a slap to his face. There it is again, that flicker of something in his expression; but as quickly as it flared, my anger is gone again, leaving me tired and empty. Resigned. I let my head fall to the side, exposing my throat -- classic submissive posture -- and close my eyes again. "Just do it, Kaiba," I whisper. "Get it over with."

For a long moment the only sound is Kaiba's breathing.

Then a cell phone goes off, startling both of us. My eyes fly open and I stare up at my assailant, who is glancing around wildly trying to locate the source of a rather off-tune rendition of_ -- __oh, that's tacky! I thought Kaiba had better taste than that._ Apparently it **is** his phone; I'd forgotten he had it, and by the look on his face, so had Kaiba. It's a wonder it didn't get smashed in all our crashing around. He pulls it out of a trench coat pocket, stares at it blankly for a moment_ --__What in the name of heaven is this?_ -- then flips it open.

"Kaiba..." he barks into the receiver. And the look he gives me is priceless, almost apologetic _-- __sorry to interrupt your rape, but I really must take this call _-- and I start giggling silently. Hysterical reaction, I'm sure. Talk about anticlimactic. "Yes.... No, of course not, you moron.... Domino Park." He sighs and runs one hand back through his hair in what looks like a habitual gesture of exasperation. "Deal with it, that's what I pay you for. -- Moron!" he repeats as he clicks the unit shut. Then he looks down at me and my giggles dry up instantly. I'm barely breathing again. Sounds like normal Kaiba is back (as opposed to psycho-rapist Kaiba), but I'm not taking any chances. After all, he is still sitting on me.

His expression tells me nothing; he's wearing that same blank mask that drives poor Jonouchi half crazy. The others always tell Jou that he shouldn't let Kaiba get to him so easily, but at the moment I heartily sympathize with the hot-headed blonde. It's maddening, truly it is. Until I notice the turmoil in his eyes. Still angry, but not that insane fury I saw earlier nor the frightening - I still don't know what to call it - exaltation? - that burned in them when he realized I was well and truly trapped with no escape possible. Does he know how terrified I am? If he touches me again, I think I might go catatonic .... He'd get his prize, but would it be worth the winning?

Ten heartbeats. Twenty heartbeats. Thirty....

"We're not finished, Bakura."

And without touching me, not even a hand on my shoulder for balance as he stands, Kaiba is on his feet again in a graceful swirl of coattails, stepping back from the debris of broken shrubbery and nearly broken me until he's clear of the hedgerow. Then he's gone, presumably heading for the street where we left his motorcycle, while I collapse back into the junipers trembling as a strange combination of exhaustion, relief, and irrational fury crash through my mind._ How dare he just walk away like that? Like I was a...a worn-out toy, something to use and throw away when he was finished.... He could have at least...._

_Dear God. He said we're **not **finished._

I curl up then; not catatonic, because I can still feel everything. Every ache, every bruise, the touch of his lips against my neck, his hands on my chest, the weight of his body against mine...the raw need that burned through me when he...when Kaiba.....

___Father, forgive me, for I have sinned and I am surely going to Hell._

___Because part of me..._**wanted **_it. _

(**tbc**)

Teaser for Chapter Three:

Traffic picks up and Honda starts changing lanes, weaving the motorcycle in and out between cars without slowing down, leaning into the turns, and I automatically lean with him in sync.... The smooth leather of Honda's jacket feels cool against my skin; comfortable, durable and dependable -- like its wearer. One of the few real memories I have of that whole Battle City fiasco is of Honda hoisting me onto his back and carrying me out of the wind and the cold and the dark.

___Oh, Kamisama, if I _**had**_ to be attracted to another male, why not a friend? Why not Hiroto? He's caring and strong and fiercely loyal...._

___What did the Other do during Battle City, to make Kaiba so angry... so... violent? It must have been something horrible... And Kaiba blames _**me** ...

_ --------------------------------------_

A/N: Again, before anyone asks -- this story is First Person, Ryou's POV. Which means he really has absolutely no idea why Kaiba's acting like this. Kaiba will get a chance to tell his side eventually; and NO, I am NOT going to explain it in advance!!!!

Special 'Lilo & Stitch' moment: my Beta was reading this section aloud and hit the "Ah! He bit me!" line, then promptly continued: "Eeeewww, does this look infected to you? - So help me, Kaiba, if I get rabies I'm suing!" We both cracked up, ROTFLOAO....

Special Thanks to List-Daddy Dragon and WarClaw on the Rhiannon's Eyrie mailing list, for walking me through the brawling possibilities for a 2-month aikido student versus unknown expert. Arigato, Nii-sans!

My title "The Weight of a Feather: Breaking Strain" was inspired by at least three separate sources. WoaF refers to the Egyptian Judgement of the Dead, in which the heart of the deceased is weighed against the Feather of Truth. It also hearkens back to something one of my college philosophy professors said, about the decision given less thought than the weight of a feather being the one that will have the impact of a hammer ( I may not have that quite right, it's been, um quite a few years cough twentysomething cough).... But if I were Kaiba, I'd be worried.... "Breaking Strain" refers to a poem by Rudyard Kipling, (Hymn of Breaking Strain) which I personally have found great comfort in over the years, especially the last verse....Look it up, if you're curious.

Read & Review, please!


	3. Chapter Three

The Weight of a Feather: Breaking Strain

* * *

**Author:** Mother CHOW Goddess

**Rating:** PG-13; for swearing, violence, and attempted male/male rape (Shonen-Ai and Yaoi) SKxRB

**Category:** Yugioh, AU (post Battle City) Angst/Action

**Summary**: In the aftermath of the Battle City Tournament, life goes back to normal -- or as normal as possible. Unfortunately, Ryou Bakura is having a particularly bad day and when he crosses paths with Seto Kaiba it gets even worse, in ways that will change both lives... if they survive. First Person/Ryou's POV. COMPLETE.

* * *

**Authors Note**: This is the last chapter of "Breaking Strain" in Ryou's POV. **Yume charm o' happiness** and **D-Star**, thank you for reading and reviewing. Just out of curiosity, what did you like specifically about the story? Was there anything that left you going 'huh?' Anything that didn't work for you? **Calynder**, thank you again! About the mobile phone scene: my first Beta asked me if I was really going to let _that_ happen to poor Ryou, and I said, 'nope, he gets saved by the cell. Literally.' Although the way it actually worked out... The scars are from the pointers of the Ring, the burn.... Well, I figured there was so much electrical and magical energy getting hurled around, Ryou could hardly come out unscathed. Plus, there's a long tradition in fantasy literature, folklore and mythology about wounds caused by magical, cursed, or sacred items: they either heal immediately without a trace once the spell is broken or the curse is lifted, or never heal completely. I'm not sure how far I'm going to take that particular parallel, but there will be lingering repercussions overall, as you'll see in this chapter. That's a very perceptive comment you made about Kaiba, btw. His POV is coming eventually. **Relinquished**, thank you for your review on SaYD, glad you appreciated it! I'm pretty sure I've read some of your stories (checks quickly, YEP! I have. Good stuff, why didn't I 'Author Alert' you yet?) The working title for "Breaking Strain" was 'Pronouns', reflecting my original, fluffier notion that Ryou has problems with proper grammar when under stress (angry, or on the verge of a panic attack – witness the 'D' on his exam!). I do think you should reread Chapter 2, though. I'm all for consensual Seto-Ryou snogging – keyword being 'consensual'- but I tried very hard to make it clear that despite whatever physical reactions Ryou experiences, he is NOT a willing participant. He is trying to make the best of what he views as a no-win situation. **Hush-Puppy**, thanks for reading & reviewing. I hope this chapter doesn't disappoint you.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Yu-Gi-Oh! Or any of the characters thereof. They belong to Kazuki Takahashi/ Shueisha Inc., FUNImation Productions, 4Kids, etc.

* * *

**Chapter 3: **

I need to calm down, I need to pull myself together, I need to **breathe**, damn it! _Focus, Feather! Don't think about what happened, what almost happened; focus on what you need to do right now. One step at a time. Just like a kata. Breathe!_

Thanks to Biology and Chemistry classes I know why my leg muscles feel like overcooked ramen and the rest of me feels jumpy and tingly as if I've been zapped with a mild electrical charge. I've just spent the last fifteen minutes or so fighting for my life, more or less, and my entire physiological system is flooded with leftover adrenaline from a 'fight or flight' reaction. Oh yes, and don't forget that little extra dose of testosterone/endorphins at the end; it's a wonder I can stand, let alone walk a semi-straight line to the nearest public telephone kiosk. But I do, somehow, and amazingly enough it hasn't been vandalized and I still have several hundred yen in my pocket, allowing me to do what I was too stubborn and foolish to do half an hour ago and which would have prevented a lot of unpleasantness from occurring.

Isn't 20/20 hindsight wonderful?

It only takes three tries to punch the numbers in correctly, and then I listen to the sound of the ringing..... five.... six....

"Kame Game Shop. How may we help you today?

"K-konichi-wa, Mouto-San," I manage to say in a reasonably steady voice. Damn it, I'm stuttering again! "If Honda is there visiting this afternoon, may I speak with him?"

"Ryou, isn't it? Just a moment ---"

"Gomen..... arigato," I whisper to the background music, some cheerful popular fluff piece, as Yuugi's grandfather goes off in search of our mutual friend. Then there's the click of the receiver, and I hear Honda's voice.

"Hey, guy, Yuugi said you had detention today. D'ya need a ride?"

"Yes, please...." I close my eyes, leaning against the wall of the kiosk. _Just a little longer. Hold on just a little longer, Feather. _"I'm at the kiosk off Raintree Parkway."

"Gotcha. Be there in five."

"Arigato," I say again, this time to the dial tone. I spend the next minutes locating my shoes and collecting the scattered contents of my book bag. The strap is broken, but the bag itself is intact. There's also a tear in my uniform jacket, but it's along a seam; it won't be too difficult to mend. Missing a few buttons, but I have spares at home. I also try to straighten myself up a bit, to look less like the victim of a mugging. Apparently my efforts aren't too successful, because the first thing out of Honda's mouth as he pulls up and removes his helmet is,

"Holy shit, Ryou! What happened?"

_That bad?_ "Ano....I fell?" He's not buying it, I can tell. Of course, according to school gossip Honda and Jonouchi used to be two of the worst bullies at Domino High until they became friends with Yuugi and pretty much reformed. If anyone can recognize the signs of a beating it would be Honda, and he happens to be one of the few who know about the Other --- hell, Honda knocked the Other out cold during Duelist Kingdom, and how he escaped being sent to the Shadow Realm I'll never know! Of course I was the one who ended up with a headache, but I don't hold that against him. The Other had to be stopped. **Has** been stopped now, once and for all, according to Yami noYuugi. We hope.

"Anything broken?" Even as he speaks Honda is patting me down, checking for injuries as I try not to flinch, muttering under his breath about 'those hoods from Rintama' and 'you'd think they'd have learned their lesson the last time' and 'kicking their sorry asses from here to Tokyo'.

"Don't suppose you got any license numbers?" he asks, only half joking. **BEWD-3 **springs to mind, but I don't answer other than to shake my head 'no'. Unfortunately, the motion disturbs the hair hanging over my face and my personal amateur EMT gets a good look at my right cheek. "F-ck! That's gotta hurt." I cringe, not so much from Honda's touching the bruise but from his choice of words. I think it's going to be a while before I'm at all comfortable again with that particular expletive. "Better get some ice on that fast, man. " He heads back over to his motorcycle and tosses me his spare helmet, which I manage not to drop. "Gramps probably has some at the shop ---"

"No!" That comes out too loud, too panicky, and earns me a concerned scowl from my friend. I take a deep breath and try to center myself again. "No, thank you, Hiroto..... home will be fine." He studies me, still frowning and it doesn't take a Sennen Eye to know that he's thinking I'm worried about upsetting Yuugi. Because 'upset Yuugi' leads to 'upset Yami', and 'upset Yami' almost invariably means some deserving idiot gets hit with a Shadow Game. Usually with lethal results. I'll admit that's a part of it, but an even larger part is your basic 'Wounded Animal' instinct. I want to go home.

"You're sure?"

"Hai." I hand over my pack, which Honda latches onto the back of the 'cycle while I pull my hair back to fit the helmet and buckle the chin strap. _Mental note to self: get Honda saddlebags for Christmas. _Then he's straddling the seat and kick-starting the engine and I'm settling into the saddle behind him, uncomfortably aware are just how **intimate** this position can be, with one arm around his waist for support. Honda revs the engine, and I slap his shoulder to let him know I'm good to go. We make a slow loop in the street to get headed in the right direction, which unfortunately takes us past the bushes where Kaiba's motorcycle wiped out. Long gone, of course. I shudder and close my eyes, leaning my unbruised cheek against Honda's back, and try to tell myself it's the bite of the wind making my eyes water. Not tears of shame and anger, of frustration and self-loathing. I am not crying....

_Liar. _

Traffic picks up and Honda starts changing lanes, weaving in and out between cars without slowing down, leaning into the turns, and I automatically lean with him in sync. Normally it's an exhilarating sensation, like flying and dancing at the same time, one I revel in, but not today. Today all I feel is nausea, and I'm glad that my face is more or less hidden. The smooth leather of Honda's jacket feels cool against my skin; comfortable, durable and dependable -- like its wearer. One of the few real memories I have of that whole Battle City fiasco is of Honda hoisting me onto his back and carrying me out of the wind and the cold and the dark.

_Oh, Kamisama, if I _**had**_ to be attracted to another male, why not a friend? Why not Hiroto? He's caring and strong and fiercely loyal...._

And head over heels infatuated with Jonouchi's sister. I don't think he's even so much looked at another girl since Shizuka came back to town. She could do worse than Honda, a lot worse, and he'd do right by her, if Jou would let him. I swear, if Jou put half as much effort into school work or dueling as he does chasing Honda and Otogi away from his sister -- ! Well, he'd be at the top of his class in either area. But to be honest, if Amané were still alive she'd be about Shizuka's age and I'd probably be just as protective as Jou is. That's how big brothers are, I guess, and Honda's sort of the unofficial 'big brother' of the -tachi. It would be, well, just too weird, to feel that way about your own brother. It would be like the Other suddenly deciding that Yami was, I don't know, his one and only soul-mate or something!

There's a sour taste in my mouth, like I'm about to vomit but I manage to swallow it down. The Other **hated **Yami; had wanted to destroy him and take the Sennen Items, and had had no qualms about using whatever means necessary to do so. No matter who got in the way. Which was how my body ended up on the receiving end of a God Card strike. Well, technically it was YamiYuugi's doing, but the Other didn't give them any choice. I don't blame them for it even though I was the one who ended up in the medical bay; the -tachi believe that the Other was in control of my body most of the tournament and they accept that I wasn't responsible for any of the resulting mayhem. But Kaiba....

_Kaiba _**doesn't **_believe. Not in ancient curses or Shadow magic or mind-controlling spells. Or in demonic possession by past incarnations. _

I'm shivering again. So badly that I don't realize that we've stopped, and Honda is trying to pry my arms away from his waist so he can get off the motorcycle. Well, actually I do realize it but I can't seem to move except to keep shaking.

_What did the Other do during Battle City, to make Kaiba so angry... so... violent? It must have been something horrible... And Kaiba blames _**me**

"Ryou! C'mon, buddy, you gotta let go now."

_I know, Hiroto, but I can't. I can't move. If I let go, I'll fall. And I don't know who will catch me this time._

"... got jumped at the bus stop.... I think he's in shock or something...."

"... Poor dear ... It's a crying shame... with his father gone so much....."

" ... house keys?"

_What? Oh Kamisama, it's Mrs. Watanabe, talking to Honda? Oh bloody wonderful! Now the whole effing neighborhood will know that poor little Ryou got beat up again and had to be carried home by --_

"Honda, put me down! I **can** walk, thank you very much!" I gasp.

"You could have fooled me," he grumbles, letting me slide back off his shoulder. I manage to stay on my feet long enough to snatch the door key, smile reassuringly at Mrs. Watanabe and thank her politely for her concern, and 'yes, I'll be fine, just a matter of stiff muscles, thank you'; and I've got the door open and we're into the foyer, and Honda kicks the door closed behind us.... and my knees buckle right there in the front hallway.

"Oh yeah, you're walking just fine, pal." My overbearing and sarcastic friend half drags me to the den and drops me onto the futon, ordering me to 'sit and stay' while he disappears into the kitchen. To be honest, I'm too tired to take offense or disobey. Instead I let my head fall back against the cushion and close my eyes.

Big mistake.

_I'm pinned; Kaiba's weight is holding me all but immobilized. All I can do is glare into blue eyes that smolder like dry ice as I breathe in short quick gasps. His expression is one of almost unholy glee, barely restrained as his fingers brush through my bangs and trail down the side of my face, along the jawbone, then grip my chin and force it up and back..._

_'Game over, Bakura. You lose.'_

"Gaaaaaahhhhhhh!'

"Itai!"

I startle up, hit my forehead against something hard and fall back again, nearly screaming again as sore abdominal muscles protest my unwise, abrupt movement. Opening my eyes finally, I see Honda sprawled on the floor in front of me rubbing **his** forehead, the contents of the kitchen First Aid kit scattered across the rug around him. My face suddenly feels horribly hot.

"Oh kami -- Honda, are you all right? Gomen, gomen nasai ..." I slide to the floor as well, ignoring the stabs of pain and babbling apologies until I run out of breath, then just kneel there gasping. Honda gives his head a little shake as if making sure nothing got jarred loose in the collision then slowly and carefully stands up, and picks me up gently by the forearms and sets me back down on the futon. His eyes are warm, green-brown, and worried as he hands me a cup of hot tea loaded with sugar and -- brandy? -- and urges me to drink it. All of it.

I hate sugar in my tea.

"It's good for shock, buddy," my friend says quietly, and I flush again, realizing I must have complained aloud. I open my mouth to apologize again, and Honda holds up one admonitory finger. "Don't, Ryou. I startled you. My fault."

The warmth from the tea and brandy are making me sleepy and easing the ache in my stomach. I blink owlishly at Honda as he wipes my face clean with a warm damp towel; then he neatly snips and folds gauze, smears the pad with antiseptic gel and tapes the entire ensemble to a spot along my right temple. _Huh, didn't even realize I was hurt there._ Then he wraps one of my hands around a coldpack and directs me to hold it gently against the corresponding cheek.

"You're good at this," I observe, somewhat blurry of both sight and mind. "Ever thought of becoming a paramedic?"

Honda pauses in repacking the kit, then snorts with what sounds like amused exasperation. "Might as well. Between you, Jonouchi and Yuugi, I sure get a lot of practice."

"Not Yuugi, surely," I protest. "I mean, doesn't Yami --?"

"Well, not so much Yuugi, these days," he admits. "Mostly Jou."

"And me," I add bitterly. Whereas Yami actively tries to keep Yuugi out of hazardous situations and avoids trouble, the Other seemed to enjoy taking risks and inciting violence that would leave me black and blue afterwards; he'd only intervene if there was a real danger of serious injury to our -- my -- body, and even then I ended up in the emergency room far too frequently for my liking. Honda sighs.

"Hopefully not for much longer, especially with **him **gone..." He trails off, then gives me an odd look. "Ano, if you don't mind my asking...?"

"It's in the freezer, wrapped in white silk, encased in lead, sealed with gold wax and Pharaoh's cartouche," I promptly recite. "Ankh of life, Eye of Ra... wool of Ma'at and toe of --- no, wait a minute, that's 'Mac Beth'.... " Honda holds that finger up again right in front my nose, and my eyes cross trying to focus, ".... what was the question, again?"

"Too much brandy in the tea."

"Oh." I ponder that a moment. "I don't **feel **drunk."

"They never do." Honda stands up and pulls me to my feet again. It doesn't hurt quite so much this time. Must be the brandy. "C'mon, let's finishing cleaning you up and get some food in your stomach before you fall asleep on me."

"Yes, mother hen."

"Cut-cut-cutta-cck!"

It really isn't that funny but I laugh anyway as Honda shoos me down the hall towards the bathroom, flapping his arms like a giant chicken. _Normal. This is normal, and I have to hold on to it as tightly as I can because if it slips I'm going to fall again. _

A quick shower definitely contributes to 'feeling normal', and I promise myself a long soak in the tub after Honda leaves. I'm still in the bathroom in clean undergarments trying to comb the bracken out of my hair (couldn't wash it; had to keep the bandages dry) and seriously contemplating that crew cut Mr. Karita ordered me to get last year before the Other turned him into a game piece, when Honda knocks on the door with fresh clothes.

"Are you decent?"

I snicker. "As compared to what? It's open ---"

"What the hell --?"

"Nani?"

"Ryou, how long has **this** been going on?" He's angry; I can hear it in his voice and his eyes are hard and scowling, but I don't know why.

"How long has what---" He growls and I cringe slightly. _No, please, not again! _Then he stops, and gestures wildly at me....torso, arms, legs.... I look at him blankly for a moment and then at myself in the mirror. Tank top undershirt, boxers, new bruises, old bruises...._oh!_ _Oh no. Honda thinks..._

"It's Kendo club; the armor doesn't stop everything, so I get bruised sometimes." Simple explanation, and perfectly true as far as it goes. I can tell that Honda isn't quite convinced, but he stops scowling. He'll check it out with the school, I'm sure; just as he'll also be nosing around first thing tomorrow to try to discover which gang beat me up this afternoon so he and Jonouchi can put the fear of God into those punks.

I wish it was that easy.

I wish....

I watch from the front bay view window as my friend rides away on his motorcycle, having finally convinced him that I am not going to fall asleep and drown in the bathtub, and that I will call him or Jou immediately if there are any problems or weirdness (with the -tachi 'weirdness' is a given!). Honda waves as he rounds the corner, and even though I know he won't see it I raise one hand and place it against the glass in reply.

_Be careful, Hiroto. I don't want to lose any more friends_.

The street lights are starting to come on.

_I wish I could tell you...stay away from Kaiba. But then you'd want to know why..... and I can't.... _

I can see lighted windows up and down the street, my neighbors home from work and sitting down with their husbands and wives and children to eat dinner. As I push myself away from the window and reach for the curtain drawcord, something near the far end of the block catches my eye and I turn to get a better look.

A motorcycle. Not Honda's.

_'I haven't won. Yet.'_

The curtain falls and I stumble back from the bay view, my heart suddenly pounding so hard it's a wonder Mrs. Watanabe isn't over here screeching at the door about that horrible drum beat coming from the stereo speakers. A hassock trips me up and I hit the floor sprawling, crying out in pain as a muscle in my side pulls and burns; then panic-scuttle across the carpet to the wall furthest from the window.

_'Not until I get what I want.'_

Cold again, I'm shivering, knees pulled up under my chin curled as small as I can, while part of my mind tries to apply the brakes of reason to the runaway panic threatening to send the rest of me screaming back into the shadows. It's just a motorcycle. Lots of people have motorcycles. Even some of my neighbors have motorcycles. I'd like a motorcycle myself someday. Maybe I can talk Aunt Chihiro into signing for my Learner's Permit when I see her next month. I'll borrow some of Honda's magazines and get his opinion on which model would work best for me. Jonouchi will try to convince me to go for flash and chrome. Yuugi will think it's totally awesome. Anzu will lecture me about safety and road hazards, and beg for rides every chance she can. Mrs. Watanabe will 'tch', and put the police number on her speed dial so she can report me for excessive noise when I come roaring home at 4 a.m. after a wild night of sex, drugs and rock 'n roll.

Just a motorcycle. No reason to think it's anything else. No reason at all to think it might be Kaiba stalking me......

And I find myself in the kitchen, standing in front of the refrigerator with the freezer door open, one hand already reaching for the black bag almost hidden behind the Pecan Caramel Swirl ice cream and the frozen snap peas.

**NO!**

I slam the freezer shut so hard that plates in the cupboard next to it rattle, and I sink into a kitchen chair, holding my aching head in both hands.

No. I will not. The Sennen Ring is power; power I don't know how to control, and the price of its protection is one I will not knowingly pay again. I will not let fear drive me back into that half-life of shadows. Even if the Other truly is gone, I will not. I will not go back to being that frightened, helpless child dependant on the whims of others. That's not who I am anymore. That's not who I want to be.

I am not that confused injured boy you saw on the Battle Ship dueling deck, Seto Kaiba. Was that who you were expecting this afternoon? Or was it my homicidal Other you wanted to humiliate and vanquish? Did I surprise you by fighting back? You **were **surprised, almost shocked at the end. Why? Wasn't that what you wanted? Capitulation, submission, surrender...

**Never.**

I feel my lips pull back tightly in a snarl almost worthy of the Other. _I don't know what game you're playing, Kaiba. But I'm about to change the rules._ I pull out the three Duel Monster Cards I still possess; I don't have a full hand but it's not like I need them for this. I discard two and contemplate the remaining one. **Change of Heart.** Half angel, half demon; yami and hikari. Am I strong enough to do this without my Other? I'll have to be, somehow. I won't let my fear and my anger burn out of control; I won't let Kaiba or anyone else goad me into setting him free again.

I'm probably still a bit inebriated from Honda's 'tea' because I haven't eaten anything yet, but that's all right. Aren't you supposed to fast before addressing the gods? As for the alcohol, I know that many aboriginal cultures use hallucinogens in their sacred rites so that's all right, too. It's the dark of the moon tonight which is more than appropriate. So whom do I invoke: Hekaté? Hades, Anubis and Set? That would be irony for you.

In the end it's really quite simple. I'm standing on the patio, barefoot and stripped to the waist in cotton boxer shorts with goose bumps rising all along my arms and legs. Staring up into the midnight moonless sky, my hair flowing loose and ghostly, tickling lightly against bare shoulders, I ignore the aches of my body and let the soul-ache form the words in my mind.

_Seto Kaiba. Your actions have trespassed against my heart, my body, and my soul. To punish your crimes and restore Ma'at to my life, I challenge you to a Yami no Game. _

The breeze is cold, and I shiver, feeling more than a little foolish. What did I expect, earthquakes and lightning? A vengeful blaze of fire across the heavens? I chuckle nervously, remembering of a bit of dialog from a play I saw once in England:

_**'I can call spirits from the vasty deeps -- ,' **_

_**'Why so can I, and so can any man. But will they come to you at your call?' **_

Maybe you have to be a yami to make it work.

As I tug the sliding glass door open to go back inside, a pale glimmer near the chimnea catches my eye. It's only a few steps away, and it might be something important that escaped the mailbox. I stoop down and pick up....

A feather. Long and gleaming silver-white in the darkness, with an edge of shadow at the tip and along the fletch. Hané.

_'We're not finished, Bakura.'_

_You have no idea, Kaiba._

And I smile, that odd twist of the lips that so resembles the Other in his most dangerous moods.

**Game Start.**

* * *

A/N: Quote is from 'Henry the Fourth, Part One" by William Shakespeare,

"The Weight of a Feather" will be continued in "Midnight of the Soul" (Kaiba's POV), "Calm Before the Storm" (the aftermath, various POV's), and "All Soul's Night" (Ryou & Kaiba POVs). After that, I may work on the Stargate crossover plot.

Thank you for reading. I hope you enjoyed and will review!

_MotherCHOWGoddess_


End file.
